Psalm 18… God was angry and came down to draw me out of many waters…..
What if we looked at spiritual development from a neuro psych perspective of level 1-3?
God who sees us tailors his interactions… many times we have tried to offer spiritual formation in a broad sense. Feeds shame, frustration, boredom.
Recognizing where we are clarifies expectations.
If I meet Jesus and I have insecure attachment how I connect with Jesus is going to look very different than my friend who was well loved.
How we see scripture will look different. What we do with circumstances. How we respond to others.
Psalm 18… God was angry and came down to draw me out of many waters…..
As a thirteen year old in 1974 I knelt in a Methodist church as the pastor poured water over my head. “God, I don’t who you are or if you are, but I am in a shit load of trouble here and could use some help. Please help me know if you are for real.”
I got up from that alter, picked up a Bible and have yet to put it down.
“It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God.”
Who is this God who shows up? Who is this God who could woo the heart of my younger self?
How did he do that?
I read or hear others talking about spiritual formation like its something we do. I remember when Richard Foster published Celebration of Simplicity ( or whatever) The Ten things we do to grow up in our faith. Good stuff for sure.
But if this journey was dependent on my capability to be disciplined, I would be dead. No joke.
I need God like I need air. I need God who shows up to draw me out of deep water and out of enemies hands that are too strong for me.
What does that look like?
This is that story.
A story about God… God who showed up. God who I to this day do not begin to understand. God who graced my days beyond what that adolescent could have begun to dream of.
I read that bible by the hour. All of it. Then read it again. I couldn’t not.
I was angry, a lot.
My attempts to isolate in the bowels of the art room were thwarted by fellow student Sue Robinson. She crashed into hovel and refused to go away. She cajoled, she danced, she threw clay at me… in time we laughed… a lot. And then shetaught me how to pray.
I didn’t seek her out, she wasn’t assigned to me by a youth leader. I was horrible and she wasn’t anything more than herself. And her presence changed the trajectory of my life.
I will forever say she was what it looked like to have God show up. A funky 14 year old from small town Iowa who believed God was for real, we could talk to talk him and she loved clay as much as I did.
It wasn’t about her skill or discipline, or my initiative. I told her on more than one occasion to fuck off. Nonetheless…over time both of us just showing up for class… I was thrown a life-line.
The line that was cast, the invitation to pray wasn’t about Sue or me. It wasn’t dependent on the quality of our character or skill set. We were just two kids fumbling our way through the obnoxious years of junior high.
Sue was the hands and feet of God showing up! I so love that!
God didn’t wait until I attended church… he gave me a funny, tolerant, cajoling friend.
A couple years later I met Ron Netten. Ron was an art teacher and art was my solace. Ron spent hours listening to my rambling teenage concerns and never-ending questions regarding God among all things. We drank hot cocoa, pugged clay, he gave me books about God to read and for real I found refuge.
Provision was made for me.
And on and on it has gone.